


I Have Resigned Myself

by LilliannaAnsalla



Series: Resigned [1]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: And Charles isn't to blame, Attempted Sexual Assault, Eventual Romance, F/M, Found Family, Happy Ending, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Pining, Romance, but it doesn't work at all and nothing happens I promise, he's a gem and better than that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilliannaAnsalla/pseuds/LilliannaAnsalla
Summary: Rebecca Sayer has been a part of Henry VIII's court for some time now, but she returned home after the death of her mother left her to run the family estate by herself. Her one constant is Charles, who refuses to let her forget her friends at court and come to bother her incessantly. He's not really a bother, though. She's just resigned herself to pining to herself, and poor Charles is never the wiser.(Guys there's a happy ending I swear to you.)
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Henry VIII of England, Charles Brandon/Original Female Character(s), but only for like a brief mention
Series: Resigned [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138871
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The absolute fastest I've ever finished a work, and we can all blame Season Three Charles for giving me Emotions for it!
> 
> I might add on to it later if there's any part someone wants to see specifically, but this fic is complete at this point.

Rebecca lived a fairly easy life. Yes, she was an orphan, but she had the chance to know her parents well before their passing. They had even left her comfortably off and provided for. The Sayer estate wasn’t large by any means, but it provided for itself by treating its people well and being self-sufficient in many areas. The home had a sprawling garden that fed the household; a skilled tailor and a blacksmith worked in the tiny village nearby; it had access to a stream and enough grassy hills to support sheep and livestock and enough flatland to allow for a decent harvest for the people. It was choice land that had been gifted to her father, George Sayer, on behalf of the late king for saving his life when they were younger. Her father had been a close friend, the son of a poor lord, but he and the king had been close ever since George had arrived in court. In turn, her mother, Margaret, had been close friends with the late queen, having served as her handmaiden in court for some years before George got up the courage to ask permission to court her. Rebecca was their only surviving child, but she was doted on and loved right up until her father died in a hunting accident when his horse fell on top of him and consumption took her mother. She mourned them and missed them dearly, but she had been raised to take care of the estate, to help her mother as her health failed, and the estate didn’t care if her parents were dead. People still had needs. So, Rebecca pushed on, withdrawing from the court for a time to take care of her home and settle in. However, court life followed her home. In the form of one Charles Brandon.

Now, George and the late king had been friends for a long time, and that meant that Rebecca and Henry had been forced to interact on many occasions when the two men got together for various reasons. Rebecca’s father had been Henry’s unofficial godfather, and the two had grown up around one another. It had once been rumored that they were to be engaged, but, surprisingly, her father had rejected the idea. He’d married Margaret for love, not to elevate her station or his own; that was the life he wanted for Rebecca. Therefore, Henry and Rebecca had been allowed to be friends, never being forced together, luckily for the both of them. During the war, she had to send off both her father and her friend to battle, praying desperately that they would return safe and well, and in most cases they often did. Sometimes there would be a would that would be brushed off as “merely a scratch” but nothing worse. In winter, when the armies returned home, Henry and some of his inner circle would come to her home to celebrate with her father over victories and a good progress to the war. That was how she came to meet Charles Brandon, William Compton, and Anthony Knivert. They were all friends that he made in the army, and the four men were a tight-knit group, a band of brothers if she ever saw one. It was their introduction to her that sealed their relation to her, however. Once her father had been greeted, Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, turned to his friends, and declared, “You look at her, you die.” All three men immediately dropped their eyes to her feet before, one by one, they glanced up at her, and Henry broke into loud laughter. “You’re scoundrels, all of you!” They collectively sighed in relief, and that was that.

Of all of Henry’s friends, though, Rebecca and Charles were the closest. They’d only been teenagers when they’d met, but they got along famously. He respected her father a great deal, which gave him a boost up in her ranks of people she liked, and he treated her mother with honor. When first one, then the other were taken from her, he’d been at both ceremonies, as had Henry and the others, but he’d gone the little bit extra and written her letters in the days that followed, urging her to take her time coming back to court, that he’d let her know if anything really interesting happened while she was away in the meantime. She’d written back, “You mean you’ll tell me which women you’ve offended when I’m not there to keep you in line.” She knew of his womanizing, and she did try to reign him in a bit, but there was only so much she could do. And when she had been away from court a month, Tiffany announced that “Mister Brandon is here to see you, My Lady.” Rebecca was in the middle of talking with Leon about a dispute two villagers were having, but she knew better than to keep Charles waiting. Otherwise, he might go after Terra again, and that was the last thing the poor girl needed.

“Send him in,” she said, “and tell Terra to go hide in the kitchen with Lucy.” Tiffany smiled knowingly, disappearing back into the rest of the house. Not a minute later, Charles walked in, a smile on his face.

“Becca!” he greeted.

“Charles,” she replied, returning his smile, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can I not come visit my dear friend when she’s been away from court for such a long time?” he asked, settling himself against the desk she was currently sitting at. Leon’s quiet growl behind her nearly made her laugh. Leon had been her personal guard for nearly as long as she’d been alive. He was older than her by five years, and he was protective. The man had no tolerance for shenanigans, and unfortunately for him, Rebecca’s friends (see: Henry, Charles, William, and Anthony) liked to get into shenanigans. Leon suffered through many headaches due to them, and from the look he gave her, he was probably going to have one because of Charles today.

“You most certainly can, but you rarely do,” Rebecca said with a smile. “So what can I do for you?” Charles glanced up at Leon before looking back to her.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” he asked.

“Sadly, we can’t,” Rebecca replied. “The storms the other day washed out the paths in the gardens, and they’re having to be redone. So anything you have to say can be said here.” Charles sighed again, all traces of humor dropping from his face.

“I wanted you to hear it from me and not anyone else,” he began, and Rebecca put down the papers she was holding, giving him her full attention. “I’ve gotten married.” She blinked at him a few times, waiting for her mind to understand exactly what he’d just said.

“You’ve gotten what?”

“To Henry’s sister.”

“You did  _ what _ ?” Charles straightened his shoulders.

“I don’t regret it, Becca. I love her.”

“Charles, he will  _ kill _ you,” Rebecca said, her eyes wide, “and that’s if he’s feeling merciful.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve asked William to speak to him for me first.”

“Oh, don’t put William in the middle of all of this, Charles Brandon!” she scolded. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. “Tell me what happened. All of it. Don’t leave anything out. In your last letter you told me all was well in court!”

“It is! Well, there are rumors that Henry is thinking of leaving Katherine.”

“He’s  _ what _ ?”

“Later, Becca, I promise to explain. Henry wanted his sister escorted to Portugal to marry the king, as he had arranged.”

“But isn’t he, like, ancient?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, he was.”

“ _ Was _ ?”

“He’s dead.”

“Charles!”

“I’ll get there, I promise. He asked me to escort her, and when I protested that I shouldn’t be the one, due to the vast difference in status, he made me Duke of Suffolk.” Rebecca hit his arm.

“You didn’t tell me any of this! Why didn’t you tell me you were a duke now?”

“Becca, please,” Charles begged, and she relented.

“Fine, alright, let’s just brush over the fact that you are of higher status than me now, very well. Continue.”

“The trip took two weeks, and, well--while we were at sea, things happened.”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“At least three times?”

“Why is that important?” Charles asked, tilting his head at her in confusion.

“Charles, how long have I known you?”

“A good four years.”

“Your record of seeing the same girl is two. If you liked her enough to marry her, it would have to be three.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because unfortunately you tell all of us about your conquests afterwards,” Rebecca said, giving him a disappointed stare.

“This is different, I swear.”

“Oh, you don’t have to convince me! You have to convince Henry. And yourself. And Margaret.”

“Becca, would you take this seriously?”

“Charles,” Rebecca said, fixing him with a sharp gaze, “I take everything you tell me seriously. You’re my closest friend. But I want you to understand that even William can’t save you from Henry’s wrath. You married his sister. If the king of Portugal is dead, then she should still be in mourning clothes for propriety’s sake, but I’d imagine she’s currently in your home, wearing the finest clothes you can afford. But you’ve created a scandal, Charles. People will talk, about his sister no less, and you know how protective Henry is of those he holds close. My only concern is if you are happy. Are you?”

“I am.”

“Good. I wish you both the best, but Charles, Henry will not be as kind as I am. We both know that. Nothing William can say will help you in the end.”

“Will you speak to him for me as well?”

“I cannot. The storms caused a great deal of trouble here, and I am needed to sort things out.”

“Will you write to him?” He turned desperate blue eyes on her, pleading.

“Charles, nothing I can say to him will help. He knows that you and I are close. If I go to him, he knows that I would have your best interests in mind. Between William and I, we can only alert him to the problem. You made this choice. You must deal with the consequences like a man, like a lord.” Charles gave a heavy sigh.

“But I’m not a lord. Barely a month have I had the title.”

“But you’ve been in court for many years,” Rebecca reminded him, standing up to place a hand on his shoulder. “If nothing else, you know how to address His Majesty. And you know how to address your friend.” She looked over at Leon, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. Ah, he had a headache already. “Leon, will you have Lucy send up some lunch?”

“Certainly.” He stepped half-way out into the hall to talk to someone outside (probably Terra, who wouldn’t hide in the kitchen forever).

“Charles,” Rebecca said, making him meet her gaze, “there is none so loyal in all of England as you, everyone in court knows it, but this choice you’ve made is your first and worst betrayal of his trust. I can only promise that I will support you, whatever Henry decides. You will always be my friend. That is all the comfort I can provide.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“For the moment, that is enough. Thank you, Becca. I would be lost without you.”

“I think you’d manage alright,” she said with a smile. “Now, explain to me all this about you being a duke and whatever is going on with Henry and Katherine. I’ve heard nothing of this in her letters to me.” They spent lunch together as Charles filled her in on all the court news, and he left as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the trees. Terra and Reneigh sat with her in her chambers that night while Rebecca repeated everything she’d learned that day, and Terra placed a hand on her shoulder.

“But how are you taking the news, milady?” she asked, kind grey eyes searching her face. Rebecca gave her a tight smile.

“I knew nothing would come of it, Terra,” Rebecca said. “He’s made his way through most of the willing eligible girls in the court by now, and William and Anthony have gotten the other half. And Henry thinks of me as a sister, though a distant one at best. He’d never have allowed it.”

“But surely if you spoke to him of it?” Reneigh offered. “He thinks the world of you, he said so himself.” Rebecca braided her thick brown hair as they looked on, weighing her words carefully.

“He loves me as I love the two of you, as the closest friends can be. And that is all I will ever be to him.” The girls gave her pitied looks, but Rebecca ignored them. She’d come to terms with her feelings long ago, even back when her parents had been alive. And now, he was married. She shook her head at herself. Nothing would come of it now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, AO3 doesn't do fonts, but for anyone wondering, I have Charles's handwriting as Jim Nightshade in Google Docs.
> 
> Also, I find myself incapable of writing fics without self-serving references, so all of Becca's household are references to specific people. Let me know if you catch them or just wanna guess!

**Dearest Becca,**

**You were right, as we both knew you would be. Henry was furious. We’ve been banished from court. Some days, I think Margaret hates me for it. Other days, I’m certain she’s never been happier. I find my days rather monotonous, though. How do you handle dealing with the goings-on of your estate so well? I would pay very high prices for your wisdom right now. I’m nearly bored to tears about everything. I suppose you do have Leon there with you, though, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders.**

**I’m glad you’re not alone in that big house, Becca. Sometimes, I think about how full of life it seemed when we would visit during the winter, and I wonder how you’ve managed to stay there all this time by yourself. But I know that you’ve got friends there, and that gives me some peace.**

**With winter coming fast, travel will be harder, but, with your permission, I would like to still come visit from time to time, if I could? You are well within your right to refuse, as I’ve been banished and I know you do value your friendship with Henry. I won’t compromise that. But it would be nice to see a friendly face besides Margaret’s, and some days I think she hates the sight of me more than anyone in all of England. My apologies, I shouldn’t be unloading all of this onto you. How do you fare, Becca? Are you well? It feels like months since we’ve been able to speak. If you should ever desire, my home is always open to you. I would be greatly pleased to see you again.**

**Until we next meet,**

**Charles**

“Oh, isn’t that just so sweet!” Reneigh exclaimed with a smile, reading over her shoulder.

“Don’t be so nosy,” Rebecca chided, swatting her away playfully. “He’s only being kind.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t write Lady Anne letters to be kind, does he?” Becca shot her a fierce glare. Reneigh dropped her eyes, brown eyes looking towards the floor. “My apologies, milady, I didn’t mean it.”

“He’s married, Reneigh, and you shouldn’t say such things, especially when we may go to court soon. You must watch your tongue.”

“I will, milady, I apologize.” Rebecca sighed, taking her hand and giving her a fond smile.

“I cannot protect you from everything, my friend,” she said. “Only from those who would take advantage of you. We must not place Leon in a position to do even that.” She and Terra giggled at the blush that rose into Reneigh’s cheeks. “I know you don’t care for her, but we can’t let them know that, you understand?”

“Yes.” Rebecca stood up and handed Clark the letter she’d written, asking His Majesty if he would forgive her long absence and allow her back to court. She expected an answer within a few weeks, when Clark made his circle back. The blond took the letter and placed it in his pack.

“Make sure you say goodbye to Tiffany this time,” Rebecca teased, and he blushed.

“I already did.” She grinned at him.

“Well, then I have nothing else for you. Be safe. The roads will be getting more dangerous.”

“Yes, milady.” With that, he was gone, and Rebecca turned to the girls.

“Now, has anyone seen Lee?”

“He was in the stables,” Terra replied from where she was finishing her latest braid in Reneigh’s hair. Rebecca stuck her head out into the hallway and saw Zachary passing by.

“Zachary, can you send Lee in, please? We’ll be in the study,” she asked.

“Certainly, milady.” The three girls (and Leon, who was waiting outside for them) went down into the study to have breakfast while they waited for Lee.

“Why did you want to see him?” Reneigh asked, always a bit more curious than was probably good for a young lady going to court (even though everyone knew that Leon was saving up to marry her).

“Tiffany overheard something while she was in town, and it seems he might have taken in two orphans who are only a few years younger than him after their parents died,” Rebecca explained. “She asked the person talking about it, and apparently he and the two were friends, but their parents died and they were out on the streets for a while until he found out about it and took them in. I know I don’t pay him enough for all of that just for working in the stables. I plan to do something about it.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll see. Quit being so nosy.” The girls laughed, and there was a knock at the door. Lee’s fiery-red head poked in.

“You called for me, Lady Sayer?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. Come in, come in. Get warm by the fire.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He gave Terra and Reneigh greeting smiles.

“Are the horses well?”

“Yes, my lady,” Lee replies with a smile. “They are all in the best of health, well cared for in every way. The young foal grows stronger by the day and will soon be ready to begin training.”

“That’s wonderful news. Sit, sit.” He took a seat on the other open chair by the fire. “Now, I have heard a story, and I want to see if you know of it.” The young man seemed confused, his green eyes flickering from her to her ladies to Leon and back to her.

“I shall try, my lady.” She grinned, enjoying this small game.

“Now, I heard a story that there was a young man in town, he and his sister, and the two were great friends. Their father was a craftsman of a sort, a potter or some such thing, maybe, but they were left out on the streets at his sudden passing.” Lee shifted uncomfortably, but she continued on. “Now, these two siblings had a friend who was older than them, but he himself was an orphan, and he decided that he would take in the pair, as he cared for them a great deal, even though he himself earned only a modest living.” Rebecca smiled at Lee, who was looking down at his hands. “Does the story sound familiar?”

“Yes, my lady, it does. However did you find out?”

“I have ears everywhere, Lee,” she replied. “You’d best remember a lady always knows. Now, quit examining my carpet and tell me about these twins you’ve taken in. I want to hear all about them.”

“Well, they’re Roxburt and Sheila. Rox is older, but not by much. He’s smart, but he’s not very trusting. Got teased a lot growing up because they don’t look alike, except for the eyes. Sheila’s got black hair and he’s yellow, and some people said it was proof she was evil, because his parents were both yellow. Shie’s really quiet, and she gets nervous, but she’s got a heart of gold, my lady, she does.” Lee shook his head a bit. “Lord knows I don’t have much to call my own, but they’ve been friends of mine for years, since I was their age at least. It wouldn’t have been right to leave them out alone.”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t,” Rebecca agreed. “It’s a good thing you’ve done, Lee.”

“Thank you, my lady.” She stood up and winked at Reneigh and Terra, who was watching curiously.

“Now, there is the matter of how all of you are to fit in that small home of yours.”

“We’re making it work, my lady. I’ll do my best by them, I swear it.”

“I know you will, Lee. You’ve always been a good worker. Now, there is the matter of what color the curtains will be.” Terra’s eyes widened, and Rebecca winked.

“Curtains, my lady?” Lee asked, his head tilting in confusion.

“Yes, well, I don’t know what colors Sheila likes, so it will be up to her, won’t it?”

“My lady?”

“For her room, of course. It will be next to her brothers of course, and you’ll be beside them, naturally. It wouldn’t do for you to have to come all the way from home just to train so early in the morning, would it? And they’d likely appreciate having you so close when so much has changed.” Lee was so befuddled, and Rebecca didn’t want to string him alone anymore.

“Training?” he echoed.

“Oh, yes, well, you’ve got to learn how to be a part of my guard, don’t you?” His eyes widened.

“My Lady Sayer, I don’t--”

“Now, now, this is my home, and what I say goes, and I say you shall join my personal guard. This will include a host of new responsibilities for you, but I’m certain you can handle them. As well, the position comes with a pay raise, and you’ll have to stay here, of course. I certainly wouldn’t have you leave your wards in your old home while you’re here. Besides, I’m certain that they could do whatever they liked while they’re here.” Lee was speechless, bowing his head gratefully.

“My lady, I don’t know what--”

“Say you’ll take the position, that is all you need say,” Rebecca said, taking his hands and smiling at him. “You’re a good man, Lee. You have served me faithfully all these years. It is a good thing you have done, and I only wish to help you bless these two you’ve taken in as best I can.” She squeezed his hands. “I will care for them as if they were my own flesh and blood, as well as you. If you have any want or desire you need only ask. Do you understand?” Lee nodded repeatedly.

“Yes. Thank you, my lady. Thank you. I truly--thank you.” She smiled at him and pulled him gently upright.

“Go on home now. I’m sure you have much to prepare for. I expect you here to begin your new duties by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, my lady, I will be here. Thank you. Good day.” With that, he was gone, but Rebecca motioned for the girls to come to the window, where they could see him running down the path towards town. They shared smiles with one another.

“That was a good thing you did, Rebecca,” Terra said with a smile.

“In truth? It was a bit selfish. Even with Tiffany’s children running in the halls, it is too quiet. This home is too quiet since Father died, and quieter still since Mother followed. I have more rooms than I know what to do with. Why not fill them with those who need a home and family?” Reneigh placed a hand on her arm gently.

“And there can be no more nobler cause than that,” she said. Rebecca smiled.

“I only hope they will be happy here,” Rebecca said. “These halls should be filled with joy again.” She honestly hoped that they would be, and if they weren’t, she would gladly find a place for them where they could.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Becca's nightgown--https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e5/36/c5/e536c5d85bb60c2ecec77fde94ff1547.jpg  
> Becca's robe--https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/6a/84/4e6a84f98e64bc229702d365390d1c86.jpg

“My lady!” Tiffany said, startling Rebecca from her spot in front of the study’s fireplace, reading late at night. She hadn’t been able to sleep, so she had settled with several candles, the fire, and a book to fill her time.

“What’s the matter?” Rebecca asked.

“Duke Brandon is here.” She sat up in surprise.

“At this hour?” It was late in the night, and the storm outside couldn’t have made travel easy for him.

“Shall I send him in?”

“Yes, yes of course!” Rebecca put her book down and straightened her robes, tying it close to her and making sure the buttons were closed. The door burst open less than a minute later, and Charles launched himself at her, soaking her robes with the rainwater pouring off of him, but she held him tightly anyway. “Charles, what’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“She’s dead, Becca.”

“Who?” Rebecca’s mind instantly went to Katherine, knowing that the queen had been unwell for a very long time, but Charles wouldn’t be this upset over that.

“Margaret.” Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, Charles. I’m so sorry.” She tried to get him to sit down, but he only knelt on the floor, sobbing into her lap instead, and she could do nothing but hug his shoulders and pat his head gently. “What can I do? Is there anything? Let me help you.”

“I--I treated her so horribly, Becca. She didn’t deserve that.”

“What do you mean? You’re the best man I know, Charles.” He shook his head miserably into her skirts.

“I’m not. I’m not. She--the physician said it was consumption.” Becca gasped. That was a disease that was slow and painful, yet he hadn’t even mentioned it to her. She knew exactly why. In fact, they both knew. She had thought that perhaps he had changed, that he really did love Margaret and cared for her. She’d never had reason to think otherwise. Charles had returned to court some time ago, and he’d never mentioned anything wrong, nor had she heard about the Duke of Suffolk causing any brothers or fathers to get up in arms about anything. Rebecca’s hopes of him putting his days of seduction behind him were false, apparently. He hadn’t known because he hadn’t stayed with his wife in a very long time.

“Charles,” she whispered sadly.

“I’m horrible and rotten. She should have remained in Portugal. I never should have--I didn’t even know, Becca. I didn’t know she was ill. If she would have said something--but I wasn’t there at all.” Charles rambled into her lap, words pouring out of it like a brook. Becca listened as she always did, only diverting her attention when Tiffany set out some fruit and tea nearby for later. Tiffany took her place in the corner, setting to work on some mending, but she didn’t move from that spot. Rebecca turned back to Charles.

“What can I do, Charles? Please, tell me what to do.”

“I--please, just--I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. I’m right here.” He cried and wailed and lamented for seemingly hours, and she offered placations where she could. In reality though, she was praying with all her might that God would help her through this. She hadn’t approved of Charles and Margaret’s relationship, at least not in the beginning. The nature of the entire situation made it rife with gossip and scandal. Plus, she was well-aware that her feelings for Charles put her in a natural bias. However, she never wished ill-will to either of them, and in fact was very hopeful that they would have a happy marriage. Having her die now, though, the side of her that selfishly wanted Charles to notice  _ her _ , to pay attention to  _ her _ , to love  _ her _ , wanted to cheer at the chance for them to finally be together.

_ Please, Lord in Heaven, take these selfish thoughts away for me. He is my friend, and his sadness is my sadness. _

“I’m here, Charles,” she whispered, softly hugging his shoulders. “All will be well.” He was quieting now, though she was thoroughly soaked from the rain he’d pulled in with him, as well as the tears he’d been crying.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late,” he finally said into the quiet of the night, though he stayed as he was, fists tight in her skirts like a little boy as he hid in the folds of her robes.

“I was already awake, Charles,” Rebecca assured him, “and I would rather be here for you when you need me than not for the sake of politeness.” She gently turned his face up, using a kerchief to wipe at his face. “Tiffany brought us something to eat. Would you like to eat something while we find something for you that isn’t wet with the rain?” She could do nothing more than care for him right now, and she was going to do so to the best of her ability. He nodded, sniffling slightly as he wiped at his face with his sleeves. Tiffany gave her a discreet nod over Charles’s shoulder, and she got up to whisper something to Aaron, who had been looming nearby for quite some time. The man disappeared into the house, and Tiffany brought over the tray of fruit and tea, though it was cold now. 

“I can fetch some fresh, my lady,” she offered.

“No, this is fine,” Charles insisted before Rebecca could offer. “Really.” Tiffany curtseyed and went back to her needlework. The pair ate in silence until Aaron brought back a bundle of clothes.

“Your Grace,” he said gruffly, his voice a deep rumble as his brown eye watched him carefully. The scar over his other eye looked ghastly in the firelight.

“My thanks,” Charles replied, taking the clothes.

“Charles, you may stay here as long as you wish,” Rebecca assured him, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re always welcome, you know that.” He nodded, though he looked down at the bundle he held.

“I know, and it means more to me than you could ever know, Becca,” he said, “but I must go and inform Henry of her passing. She is his sister, and he ought to know.”

“Then I will go with you,” Rebecca insisted. “First thing in the morning, after we break fast.”

“No,” Charles snapped before he gathered himself and took a breath. “No, Becca. I need to do this alone.” She breathed out a sigh and nodded.

“If that is what you wish. My home is open to you should you wish to return afterwards. Aaron can show you to your room, if you’d like?” Charles looked between the guard and the fireplace.

“Would it be a bother if I stayed here?” Rebecca looked at the chaise she had been reclining on earlier in the evening.

“Not at all, but do try to get some rest? For me?” Charles heaved a sigh, giving her a mournful look. They both knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight. Nevertheless, he replied to her request.

“I will try.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Pleasant dreams, Becca.” She squeezed his hand gently.

“You as well, Charles. Please, don’t hesitate to ask for anything. You could never be a bother, no matter what Leon says.” He gave a weak chuckle, but that was all. She turned and headed upstairs, Tiffany following after her.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked as she helped Rebecca get out of her wet things and into dry ones.

“I wish I could help him more,” Rebecca lamented.

“Becca,” Tiffany said, fixing her with a steady look. She sighed.

“A part of me mourns with him. I know the loss of those close to you very well, you know that. A smaller part of me has hope that maybe things will change now. I do not want that part to grow bigger.”

“You’ve loved him for years, though. Perhaps, once the time for mourning has passed, you could try again?” Rebecca shook her head, even as she helped Tiffany put out the candles in the room.

“He does not think of me in that way,” she insisted. “To think otherwise is to fool myself. He needs a friend, a true friend who wants nothing more out of him, and God knows that he will not find such at Henry’s court.” Becca turned to Tiffany with her heart full of sorrow. “That is all I will be for him, and I have resigned myself to that. Now, I don’t wish to speak of this any more. Goodnight, Tiffany.”

“Goodnight, my lady.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Becca's handwriting is Parisienne in Google Docs  
> Leon's is Marck Script  
> Terra's is Reenie Beanie  
> And Charles is still Jim Nightshade.
> 
> In case anyone wanted to know.

_ Dear Charles, _

_ How are you? The storms have made a mess of things here, and with Suffolk being so near, I worry for you and your household. The roads have washed out, and Clark is hesitant to venture out with the state they are in, so this might not reach you until the danger has passed. I have not heard from you in some time, and I pray for you often. I pray that you are in good health. _

_ Marie and Dennis have created a section of the garden to play in due to all the puddles. They’ve invented a game of who can cause the biggest splash buy jumping in them. To hear their laughter, Charles...I wish you could have seen how care-free they are. And to see Roxburt and Sheila keeping close eyes on them? The children are the darlings of the household, as I’m sure you already know. They ask about you constantly, wondering what treats you’ll bring them from the city. Marie has asked me to inform you that she greatly enjoyed the chocolate and would like more. Dennis wants a carved horse. _

_ I hope that this letter finds you well, Charles, and that we are able to speak in person soon. _

_ Becca _

\--------------------------------------------------------

**Dear Becca,**

**It has been some time since your last letter. Is all well with you? You haven’t been in court, and even Henry noted your absence today. Sadly, I have things to attend here at court, but I worry for your health. Is all well in your home?**

**Please tell Marie and Dennis that I will endeavor to fulfill their requests, but that it may be some time before I can arrange them. There are some trade issues going on with Spain and France at the moment, so chocolate is slightly harder to come by, but I shall do my very best. And inform Roxburt and Sheila that I shall bring something for them as well, even though they haven’t asked for anything.**

**In case you have not heard, Katherine has passed away. I know that the two of you were close and still exchanged letters. Know that you are not the only one who mourns her, though I know neither of us would say such things to Henry’s face. There is no telling what Anne shall do now that she has every claim to Henry. I wish that you were here in court with me to help me keep my tongue. It’s harder when I don’t have you to glare at me for stepping out of line.**

**I hope to see you soon, Becca. You are missed.**

**Charles**

\--------------------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**Why have you not replied to my letters? Usually, I have one from you within a week, but my servants informed me that they have not seen Clark in over a fortnight. Has something happened? Henry will not grant me permission to leave court. He claims that it is too important a time for me to be out of court. Catherine, my ward who I am very eager for you to meet, insists that your silence means I should write to you more, but I simply have nothing to say. I attempted to explain to her that I have never lacked a letter from you, but she merely laughed and walked away. I do not understand her. I fear the two of you would get along well, and I would be outnumbered, but she could use a friend like you. You’ve been such a help to me over the years. I’m certain that she would only benefit from your wisdom.**

**Is all well with you, Becca? I haven’t heard from you in so long.**

**Charles**

\--------------------------------------------------------

Your Grace,

As you continue to send my lady letters, I feel I must inform you to the situation you are interrupting. Lady Sayer is severely ill and has not left her bed in a fortnight days. The physician will not allow her to leave her room, and she has not awoken for more than a few minutes in several days. As you are a dear friend of hers, I know your first response would be to come see her. Do not. We are forbidden from allowing anyone to enter the house. Should there be any change to her condition, I will follow her wishes to inform you, as she thinks very highly of you and would want you to know. However, until that time, for our safety and your own, do not come for a visit. I cannot guarantee Your Grace’s health should you risk such an act.

Leon Loire

\--------------------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**Leon tells me you are ill. I suppose it would explain your continued silence. I cannot say I’ve gone a month without hearing from you in all the time we’ve known one another. Not since William insisted we try to see who could exchange more letters in a month, at least. Catherine and I shall keep you in our prayers. Henry also expresses his hope for your quick recovery. You are dearly missed in court, Becca. I have not longed for a friend in quite some time, but things are changing in England, my friend. Having you near would be a great comfort in this troubling times.**

**I pray for your health.**

**Charles**

\----------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**It has been a fortnight since I last heard from your household on your health. It would seem that Leon does not deem any changes enough to inform me of your wellbeing. I suppose I should tell you that I wait eagerly for any news of your recovery. Catherine must grow tired of me asking if any news has arrived when I come back from court, though she never says anything. She’s a bright girl, Catherine. I’m sure the two of you would love one another dearly, though the trouble it would cause for me is daunting.**

**We continue to pray for your health, Becca.**

**Charles**

\------------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**Some days I fear you must be dead, for indeed I have heard nothing new about your wellbeing. Your guard told me not to visit, but I feel some days that I could not stand this silence any longer. Catherine tells me to have patience, but you of all people must know that I am not always a patient man. So much has changed, Becca, and I could use your wisdom very often these days.**

**I pray for your recovery, Becca.**

**Charles**

\--------------------------------------------------

**My dear Becca,**

**The winter has already been long, but I find that even Christmastide draws near, I’ve only grown more despondent. You’ve always insisted that I must decorate the halls for the season, that the holiday deserves to be seen and celebrated for all the cheer that it represents. I must admit, it never held much appeal to me, but the halls seem dimmer this year without your directions of where to put things. I tried to do it justice, but I fear I fell far short of anything you could have done. I need your guidance in these things, Becca. I know nothing of decorating for holidays. Catherine tried to help, and she did her best, but it feels wrong without your eye to guide things.**

**I pray that the winter does not hinder your recovery, and that you are safe and warm in your home.**

**Holiday wishes, and my thoughts are ever on you.**

**Charles**

\-----------------------------------------------------

**Dear Becca,**

**I feel as if you have already left me, that you have been gone these long months and taken your entire household with you, for surely there must have been a change? I pray you have not, my dear Becca, for you are the one good thing in my life that I thank God for every day. I miss your company more than words could possibly say.**

**My prayers are ever with you.**

**Charles**

\---------------------------------------------------

**Dearest Becca,**

**I pray to God in His mercy to either spare you or bring me news of you. Spring has turned into summer, and still no word. What will I do if you should leave me behind? I pray I shall never have to find out.**

**Charles**

\--------------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**Please, do not leave me. What shall I have left if you go?**

**Charles**

\--------------------------------------------------

**Dear Becca,**

**Please don’t go.**

**Charles**

\-------------------------------------------------

**Becca,**

**Please stay. I beg you.**

**Charles**

\-----------------------------------------------

_**Your Grace,** _

_**My lady would like for me to write to you on her behalf, as she is still regaining her strength and cannot yet do so on her own. She insists that she is feeling much better and that the danger has passed. My lady would also like to extend an invitation for yourself and your ward, Lady Catherine, to come for a visit when she is feeling more like herself. Until then, my lady gives her thanks for your kind letters, as well as the assurance that Leon did not burn any of them, though he definitely thought about it. She insists that one letter every day was unnecessary, though she hopes you paid the boy who carried them well for his troubles. My lady would also like to thank you for your prayers, as she is certain God answered them.** _

_**She sends her fondest wishes and her hopes of seeing you again soon.** _

_**Lady Rebecca Sayer** _

_**P.S. She insists you know that I, Terra, am the one writing this and not Reneigh. She will not tell me why this is important to know, only that you understand that I did so.** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Here's where the assault is! Please take care of yourself!
> 
> Also, this is Becca's dress--https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/f1/fd/ccf1fdc6556ff860c28a0540c62b8dcf.jpg?epik=dj0yJnU9MEUzZ1hXdXNuUkZ0UFhVdldDdTZrdlFjUFpXWllSMWQmcD0wJm49UVc1ZTBxak9SNGlKMk10RWNUSHBxZyZ0PUFBQUFBR0FUSDNF

The party was in full swing by the time Rebecca made her way into the main hall. Lights were everywhere, and streamers decorated nearly everything. Henry’s birthday was always a lovely affair at court, and the party today was no different. The feasting and dancing would last well into the night, and then probably on into the rest of the week, just because Henry said it could. She’d left Aaron and Zachary in charge of her estate for the duration of the party, taking Leon, Terra, and Reneigh with her to court so she would have people to hide with when she needed a break. Charles was waiting for her when she arrived at the hall. “[Becca](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/f1/fd/ccf1fdc6556ff860c28a0540c62b8dcf.jpg?epik=dj0yJnU9MEUzZ1hXdXNuUkZ0UFhVdldDdTZrdlFjUFpXWllSMWQmcD0wJm49UVc1ZTBxak9SNGlKMk10RWNUSHBxZyZ0PUFBQUFBR0FUSDNF)!” he called over the din of music and talking and laughter. “You look breathtaking.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and offered his arm to her.

“You clean up well, Your Grace,” Rebecca teased, and he laughed as they weaved through the tables and dancers towards where Henry sat with Anne at the great table. It was custom to greet the king when guests first arrived, after all. “I scarcely recognize you with all that regalia.”

“Frankly, it’s because I was able to clean up here in court rather than return to Suffolk,” he said lowly, and she laughed, swatting his arm playfully.

“You’re terrible, Charles.”

“You’ve known that all along, Becca.” They came to a stop near the head table, and she left his arm to curtsey in front of the pair.

“Your Majesties,” she greeted.

“Becca,” Henry said with a smile. “It’s been too long.” He motioned to the empty chair next to him, and she walked around to take the seat. “Tell me, how are you?”

“I am well, Majesty,” she replied. “Nothing to complain about.”

“I saw you come in with Charles,” Henry said, raising an eyebrow at her. If he knew about her feelings for their friend, he’d never said anything about it, but sometimes she wondered.

“He met me at the door. I suspect it was only by chance,” Rebecca replied. Henry merely hummed. “Tell me, how is your daughter? She must be two years by now?”

“She is well,” Henry said. “She grows more every day.”

“I suspect soon she may be able to outwit even you, if the tales I hear are true.” Henry laughed, shaking his head at her. She saw Anne’s head peek around to see what they were talking about, but Rebecca had long learned to ignore her when she could.

“She has a sharp mind, to be sure,” he said, chuckling still.

“Perhaps you ought to train your mind more, so that you will outsmart her well into your old age.”

“Are you challenging me to chess again, Becca?” There was a smirk following his words, and she smiled.

“That only depends if His Majesty wishes to be beaten again. You haven’t bested me in years. I believe that was the reason we stopped playing in the first place.”

“Ah, but perhaps I’ve been practicing.”

“I shall be at court as long as your birthday celebrations continue,” Rebecca said with a smile. “You know how to find me should you ever want a reminder of why I’m the favorite amongst our friends.” Henry laughed and tipped his head at her, giving her permission to return to the festivities. She returned the nod and quickly left, finding Terra and Reneigh standing with some of Anne’s ladies, conversing and giggling. Leaving them to their socializing, she nodded to Leon, who was standing a small distance away but left her room to enjoy the party.

“Lady Sayer?” a voice said, and she turned to see an older, well-dressed gentleman approaching her.

“Yes?”

“I thought that was you. You look just like your mother, God rest her soul.” Rebecca tilted her head at him.

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

“No, no,” he replied. “I have been off serving as the ambassador to Germany for many years and have only just retired from my position. I am Richard Haroldson, Lord of Westfolk.” She allowed him to kiss her hand, as was polite, but she’d never heard either of her parents mention him. “Your father and I studied in university together, but we have not seen each other since he married your mother and I left for Germany soon after. I was deeply grieved to hear of their passings. How do you fair?” It struck her as odd that, if he’d been so moved, he hadn’t written anything to express his condolences.

“I am well,” she replied. “God has been kind to me, despite the hardships.”

“Yes, I have heard about the things you’ve done to improve your estate. Very impressive that a lady so young would be able to keep it running so well.” Something about him set off alarm bells in her head, but she wasn’t certain what. She looked around to see if she could find a familiar face she could pretend to need to go see, but besides Henry, who was deeply engrossed in a conversation with one of his lords, she didn’t see Charles or any other person she felt was close enough to warrant an escape.

“Will you excuse me, my lord? I need to get some air.”

“Allow me to go with you,” he said. “There are many people in the halls, and I would not want anything to happen.”

“I will be well,” she replied. “I have my own methods of protection.” With practiced ease, she reached up and adjusted one of her earrings. Leon, without waiting, moved towards one of the entrances to the hall.

“I insist.”

“I will be well, thank you.”

“Allow me to do this one thing, and I will absolve myself of not keeping in better touch with your family.” He would not be persuaded, and Rebecca wished, not for the first time, that she was willing to cause a scene to escape such actions.

“Very well, Lord Haroldson. I thank you.” She allowed him to lead her towards the door just past where Leon had been waiting, but she knew her guard would be close behind them. The halls were busy, filled with servants coming and going, as well as guards patrolling and lords and ladies bustling about. The pair frequently had to step to one side or the other to allow groups to pass. Rebecca had to stop herself from turning around to look for Leon repeatedly. She would just have to trust that he was there. A large group of servants carrying dishes for the main hall walked by, and in that time he took a stronger hold of her arm and pushed her into a room, slamming the door shut behind her. “Lord Haroldson?” she asked, fear mounting as she heard the lock clack loudly in the sudden quiet of the room.

“Now, my dear, I’ll not have you acting coy anymore,” he said, turning to her with a dark look in his eyes.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Rebecca answered, taking a step away from him.

“Don’t play games,” he sneered, gripping her arm and slamming her into the wall next to them. “Prancing about, talking with all those men, looking sly.” He wrapped a hand into her hair, trying to force her into a kiss, but she jerked her head to the side so he met her ear instead. She shivered, pushing against his shoulders with little luck.

“Rebecca!” Leon’s voice came from outside.

“Leon!” she shouted back.

“Where are you?”

“Quiet!” Haroldson sneered. 

“Rebecca!” Rebecca thrashed against the lord’s hold, and the sleeve of her dress ripped, but she managed to get around a table in the middle of the room.

“Here! Help! Leon!” she screamed, and the door to the room rattled. Her bright yellow skirt, that she’d been so excited to wear, snagged on a corner and tore a layer or two off of it.

“Still trying to tempt me, are you?” Haroldson said with a smirk, and she tried to keep herself around the table from him while the door shook and rattled. Leon must be throwing himself against it trying to break it down.

“Becca, run!” he demanded, and her eyes darted around the room as she circled around the table, her heart racing faster than horses in her chest. Suddenly, Haroldson grabbed a corner of the table and shoved it to the side. She screamed as he threw himself at her, pinning her to the opposite wall. “Becca!”

“Get away!” she yelled, thrashing and hitting to fight him off of her. “Leave me be!” She didn’t even know what she was doing, just trying anything she could think of to get away. He shouted suddenly, and somehow, she didn’t know exactly, she found herself through another door and running. She had to get away. She had to. Get back to the hall. There were people there. Charles was there. Charles would keep her safe. Charles would know what to do. He was always there when she needed him, no matter what. He would keep her safe. She had to get to Charles. God, please let Charles help her. God must have answered her prayer, because right in front of her, through the blurry halls (why were they blurry?), he appeared.

“Becca?” he asked, and she would have been embarrassed had she not been so happy to see him. She threw herself at him, going so fast that she missed his catch and only managed to latch onto one of his arms, holding it with both arms and clutching at him. “Becca, dear, what happened?” She couldn’t answer; her breath wouldn’t come and she hid her face against his arm. She felt his hand come up to hold her head gently. “You’re shaking. What’s--”

“Your Grace!” a voice shouted, and she flinched, tucking herself behind Charles, putting him between herself and the footsteps pounding their way. Someone was talking loudly, and there were pounding footsteps on her other side now. There was screaming somewhere around them. Hands were taking hold of her shoulders, trying to pull her away, and she gripped onto Charles’s arm tighter. No! No, she wouldn’t go! She fought against the hands, refusing to move.

“No! No! Charles!”

“I’m here, Becca. It’s alright.”

“Help, please.” Her voice cracked and wavered. Why?

“You’re safe, my friend. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“Please.” Something heavy draped over her shoulders, and he gently took her arm.

“It’s alright, Becca. You’re okay.” Soft hands took her own, and she blinked to see Terra and Reneigh standing in front of her, their faces pinched in worry.

“Let’s go, my lady,” Terra said gently, pulling her away from Charles, but Rebecca turned panicked eyes back at him.

“No, please, don’t,” she begged. He would keep her safe. He always did. He always said no matter what. He would. Leon couldn’t get to her. Charles, please.

“He’s alright, Becca. He’s just back there. It’s okay. I’ll go with you, I promise.” He began to lead her on, and she took two steps before her legs gave out. Before she could hit the ground, someone caught her and hoisted her up, cradling her against them. “I’ve got you, Becca,” Charles murmured, his voice a rumble by her ear. Someone was still crying loudly nearby. Who was it? She hoped it wasn’t anyone she knew. Green eyes suddenly filled her vision. Henry? No, no, he was at the party.

“Who did this?” he demanded, an inferno blazing in his gaze. “Who was it?”

“Later, Henry,” Charles said. “She’s hysterical.” Her? She couldn’t breathe, that was true, but surely whoever was crying so much was worse off than she was. Charles continued on, and the next thing she knew, she was on a soft bed, his hands clutching one of her own, while something was pressed to her lips gently. “Go on and drink, Becca,” Charles urged her. “It’s alright. I’ll stay right here, I promise.” She swallowed, though she fought to breathe and not choke on the liquid that stuck in her throat and made her tongue feel thick. “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” That was the last thing she heard before she fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Charles's POV from last chapter, as well as the aftermath. Boy's in for a roller coaster of a time and doesn't even know!

Charles had missed Rebecca nearly as soon as she’d gone off to speak to Henry and Anne. He’d been pulled into some conversations with other lords, acquaintances who made a point to speak to him whenever he was in court, but when he looked back at the head table, she was gone. He searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found, nor was Leon. Where could she have gone? It wasn’t like her to disappear like that, especially at a party. She liked to stay towards the edge of the crowds, but something, he couldn’t be sure what, made him want to go look for her. He spotted Terra and Reneigh, her ladies-in-waiting and friends for many years, talking to some of the other ladies in a group, and made his way over to them. He tapped Terra on the shoulder, and she turned. “Oh, good evening, Your Grace,” she greeted. “Is something the matter?”

“Have you seen Becca?” he asked. “I can’t find her.” Terra looked around the hall, but she seemed to come up empty as well.

“No, I haven’t,” she replied. “Reneigh.” The brunette turned to look at her. “Where’s Rebecca?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking around the nearby groups of people. “Leon’s missing too. Maybe she stepped out for some air?”

“Without telling us?” Terra questioned, her brow pinching with concern.

“Perhaps we ought to go check on her,” Reneigh conceded.

“I’ll check the east hall,” Charles said. “You check the west.” They split up, heading in separate directions. Charles had just turned into the eastern hallway when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards him. The sight he was greeted with would haunt him all his days. Becca was running towards him, her face white with fear, her hair tussled and her beautiful dress (that she had written to him gushing about for weeks) torn at the shoulder and ripped at the skirt. Tears were pouring down her cheeks like rain from a roof edge, and the sheer panic on her face sent a spike of cold through his chest. She was running so fast that she didn’t even stop when she reached him. She grabbed onto his arm, spinning around so she was pressed up against his bicep, her face hidden in his shirt as she sobbing and wailed through her tears. “Becca? Becca, dear, what happened?” he asked, but she couldn’t answer him. Gently, he cradled her head with his other hand, trying to calm her. She was trembling against him. “You’re shaking. What’s--” Before he could finish his question, more footsteps came rushing towards him.

“Your Grace!” Becca flinched, tucking herself behind him and hiding in his shoulder, and he looked up to see Lord Haroldson rushing towards them, his face flushed from running. “Thank Heavens you’ve found her.”

“Lord Haroldson,” he said cautiously. “What happened?”

“I was walking with her to get some air, when someone grabbed her in the hallway and pushed her into a room. I heard her screaming and was able to go in after her, but she must have fought off her attacker and escaped.” Over the man’s shoulder, Charles saw Leon stalking forwards, his face a dark thunderstorm ready to break. Before Charles could say anything, Becca’s guard spun him around and punched the lord in the face. At the man’s startled yell, Becca started wailing even louder, and there were hurried footsteps from behind them. Charles tucked Becca against the wall, turning to see Henry and several guards hurrying towards them.

“What happened here?” the king demanded, looking from him to Becca to where Leon had the lord pinned against the wall and back to Charles.

“I don’t know,” he replied. Leon was shouting at Lord Haroldson, and Becca was sobbing loudly. Henry pulled at Becca’s shoulders, but she started thrashing and clung to his arm even tighter.

“No!” she screamed! “No! Charles!” Henry tried to get her to calm down, but she was too hysterical. Charles wrapped his other arm around her in an awkward hug, but it was all he could do with her gripping his arm so tightly.

“I’m here, Becca. It’s alright,” he said gently, trying to soothe her.

“Help, please.” Her voice cracked and wavered, torn from her screaming and crying. He managed to wriggle his arm free, and Terra was suddenly at his side, pulling off his heavy outer coat.

“You’re safe, my friend. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” Charles soothed.

“Please,” Becca whimpered. Terra draped his coat over her shoulders, and he gently took her arm.

“It’s alright, Becca. You’re okay.” Terra and Reneight tried to get her attention and help her upstairs, away from the attention of the gathering crowd.

“Let’s go, my lady,” Terra said gently, pulling her away from Charles, but Rebecca turned panicked eyes back at him.

“No, please, don’t,” she begged. “You would keep me safe. You always said no matter what. Leon can’t get to her. Charles, please.” Charles’s heart broke into a thousand pieces. He’d never seen her so shaken.

“He’s alright, Becca. He’s just back there. It’s okay. I’ll go with you, I promise.” He began to lead her on, and she took two steps before her legs gave out. Before she could hit the ground, he caught her and held her in his arms, cradling her gently. “I’ve got you, Becca,” Charles murmured. She was still crying hysterically. How long had she been crying? He wanted to help her so badly. Henry suddenly appeared in front of him, his face furious. Leon was no longer shouting, so perhaps he had information about what happened.

“Who did this?” he demanded of Rebecca. “Who was it?”

“Later, Henry,” Charles said. “She’s hysterical.” 

“Do not leave her side,” Henry commanded him. “We will talk more in the morning.” Charles nodded before heading with Terra and Reneigh up to her chambers while she was at court. They led the way and allowed him to lay her gently on the bed. He turned his back, but she wouldn’t let go of his hand, so he couldn’t leave. Her ladies worked together to get her into more comfortable clothing while he closed his eyes and faced away from the bed. The physician came in, met with the cries of Becca that were tearing at Charles’s heart. She couldn’t be soothed, and he’d been trying. He sat by her bedside, clutching her hand with both of his own, praying under his breath that God would comfort her.

“I will have to give her something to help her sleep,” the physician said. “It’s the best thing for her right now.” The older man pressed a vial of something to her lips, but Becca whimpered and turned her head away slightly.

“Go on and drink, Becca,” Charles urged her gently. “It’s alright. I’ll stay right here, I promise.” Something in her relaxed, and she allowed the liquid to be poured down her throat.

“She should sleep until morning,” the physician explained as he packed his bags. “If something should change, don’t hesitate to send for me.”

“Thank you,” Charles replied. Terra and Reneigh followed him out before they set about setting up the room for the evening.

“You will stay with her, won’t you Your Grace?” Terra asked.

“Of course.”

“She would be heartbroken if you weren’t here in the morning,” Reneigh added as she placed the ruined dress in a large chest off to the side. Charles watched her with curious eyes.

“I gave her my word,” he said. The two women shared long looks.

“It’s just that you mean so much to her,” Terra explained. “You’re the person she cares most about in the entire world.” That struck him as odd.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for Leon,” he said with a grin. The women looked at each other again before turning to him.

“She is very close to Leon, yes,” Terra agreed, “and she trusts him implicitly, but he only knows things because he reads her letters. She tells you everything.”

“Nothing is a secret from you,” Reneigh piped up. “I mean, you know about her spot in the garden, don’t you?”

“Of course, behind the row of roses between the hedges,” Charles replied.

“Not even Zachary can find that place,” Reneigh said, “and he’s been a part of her guard for as long as Leon.” Charles tilted his head in confusion.

“But that’s where she always is.”

“That’s where she goes to be alone, Your Grace,” Terra explained. “She has never told anyone where it is.”

“We know entirely by accident because she fell asleep there once and Leon told us where to look,” Reneigh told him. “You’re the only one who knows that’s where she will be.”

“The only one?” They nodded.

“She writes more to you than anyone else, and she keeps all the letters you’ve written to her,” Terra said. “She hates coming to court, but she knows you need a friendly face, so she comes anyway.”

“There are many things that she does because she wants to be there for you, Your Grace,” Reneigh said as she finished cleaning up the bedroom. “Perhaps more than you could ever know.”

“You are the person who means the most to her in the entire world,” Terra concluded. “So, please, be there for her when she wakes up. She couldn’t take another betrayal.” With that, the two women stepped into the outer chamber, taking seats in front of the fireplace with their sewing and talking quietly. Charles stared at Rebecca, who even in sleep was restless, murmuring under her breath and tossing her head back and forth. She cared for him the most? She told him about her secret spot in the garden? Not even Zachary, who had been with her as long as Leon had, knew about it? She’d mentioned it so casually to him one day while they’d been walking in her garden, and she’d showed him eagerly.

_ “If you can’t ever find me, I’ll be here.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “I like to come here to think. It’s my quiet spot away from the house. But if you come to find me here, it’s okay. You’re always welcome here.” _

_ “If I come here, it won’t be quiet anymore, though.” _

_ “I always find peace when you’re around, Charles. At the house or here. So, if you ever need me, I’ll be here. Promise.” _

_ “Bold of you to think I won’t set Leon after you.” _

_ “Bold of  _ **_you_ ** _ to think that Leon doesn’t already know that you could find me first.” _

He’d brushed her off then, too wrapped up in the joy after winning a decisive trade agreement with one of the other lords. But if what Terra and Reneigh said was true (and they had no reason to lie), did she have another reason? A conversation he’d once had with Leon hit him with the force of a horse.

_ “If something should happen to me, you promise to take care of her?” _

_ “Nothing would ever happen to you. You’re too careful.” _

_ “I mean it, Your Grace. I trust her to no one else’s care but your own. She’s strong, but no one appreciates her as you do. You respect her as she is, not for what she could do for you.” _

_ “She’s my friend, Leon. If she ever has a need of me, I’ll be there.” _

_ “See that you are. She relies on you more than you know.” _

Surely Leon, Terra, and Reneigh knew something he didn’t? He and Becca had been friends for years, since Henry had introduced them at her home all those years ago. She’d joined them on picnics and at parties, sitting snugly between himself and William as they--Charles sat up straight. She’d never laughed while he’d told stories about the ladies he’d wooed. He’d always assumed it was because she didn’t approve, and he knew that she didn’t. He’d always thought that she and Will would have ended up married, with how close they had been. She’d cried for days after he’d died in the sweating sickness outbreak. She’d been inconsolable, and--ice froze his chest. She’d stayed with him and Margaret in Suffolk once it was safe to travel again, for an entire week, but he’d been in court and had never been home. He and Margaret had been in a rough spot back then, but Becca had seemed to appreciate the familiar faces as she mourned. He hadn’t thought about her much in recent years, but he remembered Margaret’s words to him after Becca had left and he’d returned from court for a weekend home in Suffolk.

_ “She’s too good for you.” _

_ “Whatever do you mean, dearest?” _

_ “Rebecca is too good for the likes of you.” _

_ “She’s a dear friend.” _

_ “Friend, yes. The best friend you’ve got. But she deserves better from you.” _

_ “Speak plainly, please.” _

_ “One day, you’re going to realize exactly what I mean, and you’re going to be the most wretched man alive.” _

_ “I’m certain, love.” _

She was right. “Bloody hell,” Charles murmured to himself, running a hand through his curls. She’d been right back then, and he hadn’t believed her. Charles got up, appearing in the outer chambers to be met with Terra’s calm gaze. Reneigh must have gone to bed. “She’s in love with me, isn’t she?” he asked.

“Of course. Half the court is, Your Grace.”

“Terra, be honest with me,” Charles said. “She is, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known?”

“For certain? Since you married Lady Margaret.” Charles felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Since--all this time?” His knees felt weak, and he practically collapsed into the chair next to Terra.

“I’d suspected since I came to serve her,” Terra continued, turning back to her embroidery.

“How--how did you know?”

“We women notice things men do not. Looks, gestures, smiles. I just knew.” Charles ran his hands through his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“I thought her and Will--”

“They were siblings in all but blood,” Terra replied. “She cared for him very much and did her best by him, but they were only family.”

“All this time?” Charles repeated. She sighed and put down her needlework.

“Your Grace, she wrote to you every single day during the sweating sickness, even though the letters never got sent. When you sent her letters back during her illness last spring, she read every single one of them, and when she couldn’t hold them in her own strength, she had Leon read them to her. She left for an entire year when there were rumors you would marry your ward.” Charles had wondered about her story of her mother’s sick cousin who never spoke to her but didn’t want to die alone reaching out all of a sudden, but Becca had insisted.

“She thought I planned to marry Catherine?”

“You certainly did favor her for a time, Your Grace,” Terra pointed out.

“Well, I--” He had no response for that. She was right. He  _ had _ seriously considered marrying Catherine but had ultimately decided that it was better not to. Something about it just hadn’t felt right. Then, he had heard that Becca had fallen ill, and he’d been more concerned that she might die without him getting to say goodbye than any plans to marry. “Have I ever hurt her?” The notion made him feel sick, but he had to know.

“You already know the answer to that, Your Grace.” He did. Even if he thought back all the way to the early days of their friendship, when it was the five of them at parties and festivals, he remembered how quiet she’d get when they talked about the women and splintered off, leaving her alone at the table, only to find out she’d gone home soon after they left. Charles felt ill. For all these years, especially in the early times, she’d heard about every conquest, every woman he’d bedded, all the close calls with angry fathers and brothers and guardians. He’d told her all about Margaret, and even some of the affairs he’d had. There were no secrets between them; well, apparently there had been one, a big one that he hadn’t even suspected. Horror gripped him suddenly.

“I came to her when Margaret died,” he gasped, feeling as if someone had stabbed him in the stomach. “What kind of horrible--”

“You were in mourning, Your Grace. She understood that.”

“She comforted me as I cried into her lap about another woman!” Charles felt as if his chest were going to collapse. What kind of awful person did that?

“You loved her, at least at once point. She told me she was resigned to that fate long before you married His Majesty’s sister, God rest her soul.”

“I don’t deserve her,” he muttered, feeling wretched and lower than a rat.

“She didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to feel like this,” Terra said, and some part of him was glad that it was Terra telling him this and not Reneigh. Terra was always calmer and more to the point. He needed that right now. “She does love you, Charles. When you hurt, she hurts. She prays for you daily, and she worries constantly. She never wanted to put you in this position, so she never said anything.”

“But she gave me plenty of chances, didn’t she?” Terra didn’t reply. They both knew she had.

“If you do truly care for her, she will need you now more than ever,” Terra finally said. “Tonight will be difficult for her, as will the coming days. If you ever meant any of the promises you gave her, now is the time to prove it.”

“I--” His mind was racing, thousands of scenarios appearing in his mind when she had done or said something he’d brushed aside but now held a deeper meaning.

“I will warn you, Charles Brandon,” Terra said suddenly, her voice stern and serious in a way he had never heard, his name a steel sword against his throat in warning, “if you break her heart, you will regret it with every fibre of your being, I will make sure of that.”

“Yes, my lady,” he replied, giving her a small bow as he got up to return to Becca’s bedside. His mind would not let him settle, showing him time after time of Becca showing her love without telling him. With every realization, his chest felt tighter and tighter. It must have been near midnight before the knot snapped, but it left him with a realization he would never forget. “I love you too, Becca,” he whispered into the quiet night air. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I swear to you, I’ll never let you regret it again.” He pressed a kiss to her hand and quietly prayed that she would wake up in the morning with the heart to forgive him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Becca's dress for this chapter!--https://www.etsy.com/WYTCHHAZE/listing/513430369/dusty-pink-rose-celtic-meadow-goddess?utm_campaign=Share&utm_medium=social_organic&utm_source=MSMT&utm_term=so.smt&share_time=1583959942000

She awoke to a pounding headache and feeling sore. Somewhere--she couldn’t tell where--there were voices speaking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Becca opened her eyes to find the sun shining through the gap between the drapes. On her bedside, there was a pitcher; when she tried to sit up, her arms buckled for a moment. She looked down to see bruises wrapped around her upper arm. At once, the memories of the night before hit her. Lord Haroldson; the locked room; running; Charles. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment. She hadn’t acted very refined, had she? But he hadn’t seemed to mind, at least not much. She remembered running towards him, but things got a bit hazy after that. She was in her rooms now, but she didn’t remember how she got here. “My lady?” Becca turned and saw Reneigh peeking into the room. “Oh, you’re awake,” she whispered. One quiet feet, she stepped inside fully, going to the pitcher at the side of the bed. “Here, drink. The physician said that you would need water when you woke up.”

“Why are you whispering?” Becca asked after she’d drank the entire glass.

“Terra was up all night keeping an eye on you,” Reneigh explained. “She’s asleep over there.” Sure enough, Terra was draped over the chaise in front of the fireplace, a blanket tucked around her. “I just got her to get to sleep a few minutes ago. How do you feel?”

“My head aches,” she replied.

“That’s to be expected. Anything else?”

“I feel weak.”

“That is the aftereffects of the sleeping draught the physician gave you last night. It should pass soon.” The voices were still speaking, and they seemed to be rising in volume.

“What’s going on?”

“His Grace Duke Brandon is outside speaking with His Majesty about something. I haven’t been listening.”

“Why are they here?”

“His Grace refused to leave your side. He was still here when I woke up this morning.” Charles stayed here all night? Why? Surely Terra would have sent him away, if she was there to watch over her. She decided to get up and do something instead.

“That was very kind of him.”

“It was. He seemed preoccupied, though, when I spoke to him. I offered him breakfast, but he didn’t hear me.” Becca threw back the blankets and got up, Reneigh helping her stand and change into a [light dress](https://www.etsy.com/WYTCHHAZE/listing/513430369/dusty-pink-rose-celtic-meadow-goddess?utm_campaign=Share&utm_medium=social_organic&utm_source=MSMT&utm_term=so.smt&share_time=1583959942000). “Do you want me to go fetch you something?”

“No, not right now,” she replied. “I don’t feel very hungry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you.” She walked unsteadily towards the door to her chambers, where she could hear Charles and Henry talking more clearly.

“--just being irrational.”

“Irrational? She was assaulted, Henry! That--that--bastard was going to force himself on her! In your own castle! I’d kill him myself if I could. I’ve half a mind to let Leon go at him again!” Leon? Where was he, anyway? “He hurt her! And I--if I hadn’t been there--”

“It won’t happen again, I assure you. He will be severely punished. But I will not pass judgement until she is able to tell her side of the story.”

“You think Becca would make up something like this?” Charles nearly shouted.

“Not at all, Charles. It is just the way things are. Patience. He will receive his due punishment. I swear it.” She heard Charles sigh. It was odd for Henry to be the calm one for once.

“You didn’t see h--”

“I saw her fight me as if I were planning to harm her, Charles. You are not the only one who cares for her wellbeing. Now pull yourself together. She needs you calm for her sake. You know she’s always relied on you more than any of the rest of us.” There was a long moment of silence.

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?” Henry asked.

“That she had feelings for me.” Becca gasped, only barely able to hide it behind her hand. He knew? How? She thought she’d done such a good job of keeping it from him! Oh, she hoped she hadn’t placed him in an awkward position by giving herself away. She would be devastated if her feelings for him complicated their friendship to the point that he didn’t wish to speak to her anymore.

“Oh, I’m certain I knew long either of you did. I do pay attention, you know. The question is when did you find out? I was certain I was going to have to force the two of you together or cause some inconvenience for it to happen.”

“I think I’ve always known, somehow. Just not the depth of it. I’ve always thought her a dear friend.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Henry teased. There was a small scuffle, and Henry chuckled. “Careful, Charles. Attacking your king is treason.” They fell silent. “Keep her safe, Charles,” their king finally said. “There’s no one else I would trust her wellbeing to. Especially giving your recent revelation.” What did that mean? He sounded as if he were teasing Charles again.

“I’ll not have you holding this over me,” Charles replied.

“Will and I had a wager going on, you know? About how long it would take for you to figure out you loved her.” Henry kept talking, but Becca didn’t hear the rest of it, or understand it at least. Charles loved her? What? Since when? Had he kept it a secret from her? What had--her mind was racing. William had known? Well, of course he’d known. He had been able to read her when even her own parents couldn’t. But Henry as well? She always felt that he didn’t pay attention to her as much as the others. He’d known too?

“Please, come eat,” Reneigh said, and Becca turned away, going to sit down. She felt weak enough before, but now she wasn’t certain she could make it much farther than breakfast. The door to her chambers suddenly opened, and Charles stepped inside. He looked awful. His eyes had dark circles underneath them, and his hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly and hadn’t thought to fix it. He was still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing at the party as well. Frankly, he looked terrible and in need of a nap. His tired blue eyes instantly landed on her.

“Becca,” he breathed, crossing the distance between them in three long strides and kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in both of his. “How are you, dear? Are you well?”

“Tired,” she replied softly. “Weak.”

“The physician said you might be,” he said. “Do you need anything? I can go get it.”

“No, thank you.” Reneigh stepped into the bedroom to give them a semblance of privacy. Charles refused to move to a chair, even though there were plenty available.

“Becca, we need to talk.”

“I need to tell His Majesty what happened, and I will once I feel better, I promise.”

“No, no,” Charles said, shaking his head. “That’s not it at all. Becca, it’s--” He paused and took a breath. “--I fear I have been unkind to you.” That didn’t make sense.

“Charles, you cannot blame yourself for--”

“I should have protected you from that man, but that isn’t it.” He seemed to be having a bit of difficulty getting the words out.

“Whatever it is, Charles, you can tell me. Is it about Catherine?”

“No, no, it’s about us.”

“Us?” Surely he wouldn’t?

“Yes. I fear I may have treated you unfairly throughout the course of our friendship. I can only apologize now because I did not realize what I was doing, but I know now, and I am truly, deeply sorry, Becca. I never meant to hurt you all these years.”

“Charles, what--”

“I love you,” he said, and Becca felt as if the entire room froze, the world holding its breath in the wake of his confession, “and I suspect that you--no, I know that you feel the same for me. And don’t say that it’s as friends, because I know that it’s more than that. Yes, we have and will always be friends, but this is more, and I--” He shook his head again. “I’ve been unfair to you and your feelings over the years.”

“Charles, you--”

“I cried to you about Margaret,” he continued, ignoring her attempt to interject, and the mention of that one night sent a stab of pain through her heart. “You listened to me brag all those years when we were younger. I--there are too many things to count, but I want us to start off with the air clear between us.” Start off? Did that mean--

“Do you rea--”

“I promise that I will be better, Becca. I’ll do right by you, and Catherine adores you already, and--”

“Charles!” she said, placing a hand over his mouth to get him to stop talking for a moment. He fell silent. “Do you really mean it? That you love me?” He took ahold of her hand and pressed a kiss against her palm before removing it from his mouth.

“More than anything in the entire world. Can you ever forgive me for hurting you all these years?”

“You did not hurt me, Charles. There’s nothing to forgive. You couldn’t have known. Do you truly mean it?”

“Yes,” he replied, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

“Then that is all I will ever need.” He smiled, a grin stretching ear to ear. He pressed kisses to her hands and held them close.

“I will do right by you, my dearest Becca, I promise.”

“I know you will. You’re a good man, Charles Brandon.” They stared at each other for a long while, grinning and looking into the other’s eyes.

“Becca?”

“Yes?”

“May I please kiss you?” She smiled wider, if that was possible.

“I should be very hurt if you didn’t.” She worded it that way on purpose, and they both knew it.

“I would never hurt you knowingly, my dear. All you must ever do is ask.” It wasn’t a perfect kiss, even though she knew he had practice. They were too eager. Their noses bumped together, and she accidentally knocked her forehead against his, but it was perfect, and she couldn’t remember being happier.


	8. Chapter 8

“Do you know where she put it?” Charles asked Sheila as they searched through all of the chests in the study.

“She said it was in a brown wooden box,” the girl replied, looking through a chest across the room.

“It’s not in this one,” Roxburt said, closing the one he’d been looking through and opening another one.

“That’s all?” Charles questioned, and Sheila gave him a look that answered the question for him. That was all.

“Any luck?” Tiffany asked as she stepped into the room.

“None,” Sheila replied.

“We’ve been through almost every single one in here,” her brother added.

“Well, we’ll finish up in here. You two go keep Maria and Dennis busy. They’re playing with the puppies again.”

“Okay, Tiffany! C’mon, Rox!” Sheila urged, and the twins were soon out the door, Roxburt following his sister like a faithful shadow.

“She said it was in with her sewing supplies,” Tiffany said to Charles, who hummed, remembering that those had gone into a chest with green edges. He found it near the window overlooking the gardens, where he could see his four new wards running around with the puppies. Becca had refused to leave them behind at her estate house, and he would never say no to providing a home to those she cared about. Suffolk was filled with laughter all the time now as Marie and Dennis explored, Sheila and Roxburt (Rox, as everyone called me, apparently) usually close behind as the responsible “older siblings” to keep an eye on them, though they were usually just as involved and Lee was the one actually supervising. Catherine didn’t seem to mind the extra additions, going so far as to help Marie and Sheila with their French while she was studying. Charles opened the chest, and there was a brown wooden box inside. When he opened it, however, he did not see the jewelry set Becca had said would be inside. Instead, he found a collection of papers, carefully folded and stored away. He closed the box and went to put it away, but it slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor, sending papers scattering across the floor. “Are you alright?” Tiffany asked, and he nodded, dropping down to the floor to pick them up.

“Yes. It just fell.” As he was picking up the letters, he recognized his handwriting on them. One was open, and his curiosity got the better of him.

Dear Becca,

Your birthday has come and gone. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t there to celebrate with you. I can’t remember the last time I spoke to you at all. Were we talking about Dennis and Marie? Or was it Clark finally marrying Tiffany? Did I tell you how dear you are to me? No, I don’t think I did. I miss you terribly, Becca. How can I be excited for anything while knowing that you could be dying and I would be none the wiser? I don’t feel much like celebrating anything at all. I’m certain I won’t until I know that you are safe and by my side again.

My thoughts and prayers are always with you.

Charles

“What is it?” Tiffany asked.

“One of the letters I wrote her when she was ill,” he replied. “She still has them?”

“She read every single one, and when she couldn’t hold them, she made Leon or Terra read them instead.”

“All of them?” He didn’t like to remember those days, months of not knowing if his best friend was dead or alive. Now, he knew that everyone had been too preoccupied running her estate through a series of heavy storms and a rash of bandits, as well as a harsh winter and poor harvest, to even think about writing back to him, but at the time, he had been unable to think properly most times. 

“As far as I know. She sometimes went back and read them, I think,” Tiffany said, as she handed him the refolded letters.

“We found it!” Reneigh called from upstairs.

“Okay!” Tiffany called back. “I always found it funny, going back and reading those letters. I don’t think I could have.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Something about my best friend telling me exactly what every woman wants to hear, probably.” With that, she was gone, heading upstairs, presumably, but she left Charles reeling with her words. He looked down at the letter in his hands, and then he began to remember how desperate he’d gotten, hoping and praying constantly, begging God to spare the life of his closest friend. The force of his realization hit him like a wave, and he nearly dropped the box again. She still had all those letters, and she’d gone through every single word. When he hadn’t known she loved him. This wouldn’t do. He closed the box and put it back in the chest, going back to help Becca unpack, but he had a plan forming in his mind that he would execute as soon as he was able.

It didn’t manage to happen for another day or two, as everyone was still trying to settle in place after moving from the Sayer estate to Suffolk, even though the journey itself wasn’t very far (they were practically neighbors). However, when everything settled into a rhythm and Henry called him back to court, he was able to set his plan into motion. He pressed a kiss to Becca’s head, leaving her sleeping peacefully before laying a folded piece of paper on the vanity where she did her hair every morning. He’d be in court by the time she woke up, but he had a large smile as he rode away from his home anyway.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Becca woke up alone, to an empty bed. She sighed. It’d been a grand few weeks, hiding away at the coast and not having anyone require anything of her or Charles for once in a very long time, but Henry would only suffer court without his friend for so long. She’d known this day was coming, even once Henry had given his blessing, but she wasn’t excited about it. She’d gotten used to Charles’s presence in the mornings, quiet breakfasts in their bedroom and late nights curled under furs together. Terra and Reneigh did their best to distract her as she got ready for the day, changing into fresh clothes and chattering about the children playing in the gardens already, even though it was early still. Becca smiled at their conversations, but she was distracted when she sat down at her vanity to brush her hair. There was a letter laying there with her name written on it. Charles had written it. She knew his handwriting anywhere, but what on earth could this be?

**My darling Becca,**

**It has come to my attention that perhaps I could stand to remind you just how much you mean to me. I’m not a poet by any means, you and I both know this, but I shall endeavor all the same.**

**Having you as my wife is the greatest blessing God has given me. Some days I wonder just how much time could have been saved if I wasn’t such an idiot at times. But now, I know that I shall spend the rest of my days knowing that I have you by my side, whether we are together or not. You have brought life and love into my home where there has been none. I am the luckiest man in all the world to have you as my bride, and I will never tire of seeing your beautiful face in the mornings, or hearing your laughter as you talk with your ladies and the children. You bring light into my world when I feel that sometimes there is only darkness, and I adore you for that, even if you have now filled my home to the brim with knick knacks and things I have no hope of understanding.**

**I love you more than anything in this world, my darling, and I will do my best to never give you cause to question that fact. You have been there for me when I needed you most, and I shall always do the same for you. I love you, my precious Becca.**

**Yours,**

**Charles**

“Aww!” Reneigh said, and Becca held the letter against her chest, glaring up at Reneigh, who giggled and raised her hands in surrender. “It’s so precious! You’ve been married for nearly a month now, and he’s leaving you love letters!”

“Remember that when you and Leon finally wed in a month and we’re teasing you non-stop,” Terra replied, and Becca laughed. 

“Exactly!”

“But did you see the way that Zachary was looking at His Grace’s gardener?” Renenigh gushed. “What was her name, Terra?”

“Aerin,” the blonde supplied.

“Right! Did you see them looking at each other? I don’t think Leon and I will be the only ones getting married!” As Reneigh chattered along in the background, Becca reread the letter, a warmth in her chest. She carefully placed the letter in the top drawer of her vanity so it would be safe as she braided her hair. Maybe he wasn’t a poet, but to her, he had written her the best love poem in all the world. When he came home that night, she kissed him hard and whispered in his ear softly.

“Poet or not, I’m happy I have you, my love.” He grinned and hugged her tightly.

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you more.”

~Fin~


End file.
